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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22624924">Stay</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/unkindravens/pseuds/unkindravens'>unkindravens</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Schitt's Creek</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>4 Things, Character Death, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Multi, Poly, reference to past abuse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 08:56:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,822</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22624924</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/unkindravens/pseuds/unkindravens</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Four times David and Stevie stayed together and one time they didn't.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Patrick Brewer/Stevie Budd/David Rose, Stevie Budd/David Rose, Stevie Budd/Patrick Brewer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>72</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Happy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>There's a major character death in one of the stories - I'll warn you before it happens.</p>
<p>An imagining of what would happen if Stevie and David stayed together in season one, and one time they didn't.</p>
<p>I blame a lot of patrons at the Rosebudd for this.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Time One</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you wanna get married?”</p>
<p>Stevie coughed and spat her wine. “What?”</p>
<p>Stevie sat on the center table of the store, David standing in front of her, between her knees. It was after close.</p>
<p>He took her glass and set it on the table.</p>
<p>“Do you want to marry me?” David repeated. “We’ve lived together like a year now, seems like the thing to do.”</p>
<p>“<em>The thing to do</em>? You’re such a romantic.”</p>
<p>David placed his hands on Stevie’s thighs and waited for her to look him in the eyes.</p>
<p>“Stevie, when I met you I was lost and broken. And really poor.” Stevie smiled. “And so were you.”</p>
<p>“Pretty sure we’re still broken, David.”</p>
<p>David nodded. “Sure, but you tried to put me back together. And sometimes it actually worked. I’m kind of taped together, the pieces don’t match and might come apart again, but I don’t feel lost anymore. There’s not a lot I’m sure of, but I’m sure about you. You see me like no one ever has. You know everything about me and didn’t run.” He brushed his fingers through her hair. “I like to think I’ve done the same for you.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I guess you have. Before you I didn’t feel…” she sniffled and wiped her cheek with her flannel sleeve. “Jesus, this is a lot. Um, before I met you I accepted the fact that I’d be alone. That was too fucked up for anyone to…” Stevie buried her face in her hands. “Why is this so hard to say?”</p>
<p>David gently pulled her hands away. He placed a hand on her face, thumb stroking her strong, stunning, perfect cheekbone. He stepped closer and ran his other hand along her thigh.</p>
<p>“It’s okay,” David said. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”</p>
<p>“No, I do.” She took a deep breath and shaky hands gripped David’s hips. “I didn’t think anyone would ever love me. That way. That anyone would want to deal with me and accept me and want to stay with me.”</p>
<p>David tilted her head and kissed her, soft and slow.</p>
<p>“So? What do you think?” he asked.</p>
<p>Stevie laughed hysterically. More tears fell. For someone who didn’t like to show her hand, she had a lot of emotions close to her vest.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Stevie said. “Yeah, fuck it, let’s get married.”</p>
<p>David dared to smile. “Yeah?”</p>
<p>She took his hands in hers. “Yes.” She laughed again. “I love you.”</p>
<p>David finally let go of his waiting tears. “I love you too.”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>“This is fucked - I don’t have any female friends,” Stevie whined. She and David were at their third cake tasting. Stevie really knew how to work their engagement to get free stuff.</p>
<p>“You don’t have <em> any </em> friends,” David said, mouth full of cake.</p>
<p>“And what about you? You gonna default to Alexis?”</p>
<p>“Actually, I was thinking of asking Patrick to be best man.”</p>
<p>Stevie smiled in a way that was almost shy. “That means I can have Alexis?”</p>
<p>“She’s gonna be your sister,” David said, “you’re gonna get a lot of Alexis.”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>“Patrick brought that guy he’s been seeing,” Stevie said. She and David were in the middle of the dancefloor, using their first dance as a chance to dish about wedding guests.</p>
<p>“Good for him.” David twirled her. “You look fucking beautiful, have I told you that?”</p>
<p>Stevie laughed. “Yes you have.” They moved around the floor as more couples joined in. They both wore black tuxedos. Stevie’s hair fell in waves and Alexis did her make up, bringing out her dark eyes.</p>
<p>She leaned her head against David’s shoulder. “You look beautiful too.”</p>
<p>“I can’t believe we just did that,” David murmured. Stevie looked up at him and grinned.</p>
<p>“We got married! This is insane.”</p>
<p>David kissed the top of her head. “I fucking love you, Stevie Budd.”</p>
<p>“I love you too, David Rose. So fucking much.” Stevie wound her arms around David’s neck. “Now we’re Rosebudd.”</p>
<p>“Oh my god, we’re not doing Rosebudd.”</p>
<p>They laughed, smiling into a kiss.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Roommates</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Time Two</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Well, this is it,” David said. “Not the biggest room in the world.”</p>
<p>“No, it’s perfect,” Patrick said. “Much better than the room at Ray’s and the floral wallpaper.”</p>
<p>“Great. Rent’s due on the first and you have the guest bathroom to yourself.” David led him back through the apartment, passing that Stevie woman on the couch; a grunted “hello” had been her only interaction. “Oh, and mark your food. Stevie grazes.”</p>
<p>Stevie threw her Xbox controller across the couch and narrowed her eyes at Patrick.</p>
<p>“Is he cool?” she asked David.</p>
<p>“Cool?” Patrick repeated.</p>
<p>Stevie picked up a joint from the coffee table, taking time to light it before her response.</p>
<p>“Yeah,” she coughed on the exhale. “Cool.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Patrick said, “I suppose I’m cool.”</p>
<p>“Sweet. Don’t touch any of David’s shit or talk to him before ten. Please don’t rob and kill us—we have nothing.”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Well, David and Stevie had certainly gotten used to living alone. They shared a wall with Patrick’s bedroom and had aggressively loud sex. Several times a week.</p>
<p>Patrick sometimes listened to the warm-up before putting on his headphones. Sometimes it woke him up in the middle of the night. Sometimes it made him horny as fuck. (Once he tried jerking off, but having “I swear to fucking god, David, if you do that again I’ll fucking end your life,” yelled suddenly wasn’t exactly conducive to the task at hand.)</p>
<p>Right now, however, they were in the living room and getting rowdy. Patrick stomped out of his room.</p>
<p>David and Stevie held up their beers and cheered as Patrick walked into the room.</p>
<p>“Come hang out,” Stevie said. She rattled a pill bottle. “Adderall? Twyla’s cousin or her cousin’s cousin or something… Either way, someone has ADD.”</p>
<p>“No, thanks,” Patrick said. This at least explained how the two of them had been awake since yesterday. “I was just wondering if you guys could keep it down, I have work in the morning.”</p>
<p>“House vote!” David said. “All those in favor of no curfew.”</p>
<p>He and Stevie raised their hands. “All opposed?”</p>
<p>“Nay!” Patrick yelled. Jesus, they were the worst.</p>
<p>“Sorry Patrick,” Stevie said, “this house is a democracy.” She slid from the sofa to the floor, watching him. He crossed his arms and frowned.</p>
<p>“Fine,” she grumbled. “We’ll keep it down, but we’re not going to bed.”</p>
<p>“Not going,” David repeated. “You can’t make us.”</p>
<p>“You two deserve each other,” Patrick muttered on his way to his room.</p>
<p>There was something about living with those two that was charming… in a bizarre way. Patrick was able to breathe. He had room to figure stuff out. In a rare moment of sincerity David told him they could talk anytime about new… stuff Patrick had been realizing.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>A year later Patrick moved into his own apartment. The quiet was a welcomed change.</p>
<p>Still, David and Stevie visited a lot. They were assholes, but they were his assholes.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Family</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Time Three</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m home,” Patrick yelled.</p>
<p>Stevie and David froze. She was straddling him, both naked, with David deep inside her.</p>
<p>“What do we do?” she hissed.</p>
<p>“I don’t know!”</p>
<p>Patrick walked into the living room. “Really, guys, on the couch?”</p>
<p>“Sorry, Patrick,” they both mumbled.</p>
<p>Patrick leaned down and kissed David’s mouth and Stevie’s cheek. “It’s like you want to get caught,” he said.</p>
<p>“Hey, I walked in on you two last week!” Stevie said.</p>
<p>“Would we say you walked in?” Patrick asked, head cocked. “You banged on the bedroom door and begged to either be let in or for us to talk louder.”</p>
<p>Patrick walked out of the room. “I’ll start dinner,” he called over his shoulder. “At least put down a towel.”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Stevie sat on her bed, knees drawn to her chest, staring at the wall. Should she cry? Express some sort of emotion? She hadn’t seen her mother for years, so will her life be that different now that she’s dead? And they wanted her to give a eulogy… she had nothing to say. She was a good mom except when she was drinking or gambling or had a touchy boyfriend?</p>
<p>“Hey,” Patrick said softly from her doorframe. “You okay?”</p>
<p>Stevie shook her head.</p>
<p>He sat on the edge of her bed. “I know this brings up a lot of stuff for you.”</p>
<p>Stevie laughed and sniffled. Of course Patrick’s sweet concern face would be what made her cry. “You could say that.”</p>
<p>He stood and held out his hand. “Come on, it’s late.”</p>
<p>Stevie followed Patrick into his and David’s room. David smiled and patted the mattress next to him.</p>
<p>Wordlessly, Stevie climbed into their huge bed. Patrick turned off the light and got in next to her. He opened his arms and she laid her head on his chest. Behind her, David wrapped an arm around her waist and placed his leg over hers.</p>
<p>She cried and they talked and eventually Stevie fell asleep between them.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>“Welcome!”</p>
<p>Marcy and Clint Brewer stood on the porch of Patrick’s childhood home. Stevie and David took a tour, fixated on every Patrick picture on the walls.</p>
<p>That night Stevie kept bouncing her leg and gripped her beer. Maybe she could stay on this couch for the rest of the trip and no one would notice her.</p>
<p>“Mind if I sit?”</p>
<p>So much for that plan.</p>
<p>“Of course,” Stevie said, scooting over.</p>
<p>Marcy sat and placed a hand on Stevie’s knee, stilling her leg.</p>
<p>“You don’t have to be nervous.” Marcy smiled. “We like you—you passed the test.”</p>
<p>Stevie laughed. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how to… family. I guess.”</p>
<p>“Well, Patrick tells us you’re an important part of his, which means you’re an important part of ours.” Marcy gathered Stevie’s hands and rubbed them with her fingers. “Honestly, it’s nice to have another woman here. I always wanted a girl.”</p>
<p>Stevie stood. “Okay, I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for.”</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Marcy said, standing. “I didn’t mean to overstep…”</p>
<p>“You didn’t. There’s nothing to step over. It’s just me.” Stevie sighed. “And the Roses, I guess.”</p>
<p>“How about you help me get dinner ready? We’ll start there.”</p>
<p>Stevie spent the rest of the weekend attached to Marcy. She watched with wide eyes as Marcy and Clint held hands, as Marcy proudly told stories from Patrick’s childhood, as she fussed over Patrick and David, as she won nearly every board game they played and proceeded to be a terrible winner.</p>
<p>“Promise you’ll call if you need anything,” Marcy told her. They were standing next to the packed car, ready to return to Schitt’s Creek.</p>
<p>“I will,” Stevie said. This time she initiated their hug, flinging her arms around Marcy in a way she's only done with David and Mr. Rose. She saw David and Patrick smiling from the car.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Toxic</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Time Four</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>“I just need your help for one day. Half a day, just watch the front desk,” Stevie said, stalking David around the store.</p>
<p>“I don’t have time, I’m trying to run a business,” David said, standing in front of Stevie with his arms folded.</p>
<p>“So am I! What do you think I do all day?”</p>
<p>“Play solitaire and feed your tamagotchi.”</p>
<p>“Oh my god, you always do this!” Stevie yelled. “You act like the motel is less valid than your precious apothecary.”</p>
<p>David shrugged. “This place is mine. I built it.”</p>
<p>“The motel is mine, I’ve been there since I was fourteen. Sorry I inherited it when my aunt <em> died</em>. Sorry I didn’t open a store of overpriced foot cream so I could flirt with my business partner.”</p>
<p>“Hey!” Patrick yelled from behind the register. “Can you two stop? We’re about to open.”</p>
<p>“Fine,” David said. “I’ll work at the motel tomorrow. But I’m not cleaning anything.”</p>
<p>“God forbid,” Stevie muttered. Patrick cleared his throat. She smiled sweetly at David. “Thank you for helping me, my sun and stars,” she said in a sing-song voice.</p>
<p>“Not a problem,” David cooed, clearly trying to out-sweet Stevie. “I’ll see you tonight, moon of my life.”</p>
<p>“I love you,” Stevie yelled, turning to leave.</p>
<p>“Love you too,” David yelled as the door slammed shut.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>“Where were you last night?” Stevie asked as David stumbled into their apartment.</p>
<p>“Out.”</p>
<p>“Were you with him again?” Stevie asked.</p>
<p>“So the fuck what if I was?” David challenged. “Are you jealous?”</p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“I don’t believe you,” David said. “Are you jealous of <em> him </em> or of <em> me</em>?”</p>
<p>“I’m not jealous,” Stevie said through gritted teeth.</p>
<p>“Good, ‘cause you shouldn’t be. You fucked him first, or have you forgotten?”</p>
<p>“I think it’s safe to say there’s been some Jake overlap,” Stevie snapped.</p>
<p>“My god, do you ever take responsibility for anything?”</p>
<p>“I have to go to work.” Stevie snatched her bag. “Take a shower.”</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>“David, did you spend our entertainment budget on shoes?”</p>
<p>David sat at the dining room table, across from Stevie. “You get to look at them, that’s fun.”</p>
<p>“Jesus Christ, you’re so selfish,” Stevie said. “I don’t think this is gonna work, pooling our money.”</p>
<p>“Are you sure? I make so much more of it than you.”</p>
<p>Stevie slammed her laptop shut. “For now. I’m investing in the motel chain, you have one store.”</p>
<p>“Great, then my money and I will entertain ourselves.”</p>
<p>“Fuck you!”</p>
<p>“Fuck you!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Forever</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>CHARACTER DEATH</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>2028</b>
</p>
<p>Patrick and Stevie moved silently around his house, arranging furniture, removing cloth from mirrors, putting away so very many casseroles.</p>
<p>“How have you been holding up?” Stevie gently asked Patrick. After their cursory straightening up, they sat on the sofa and sipped good scotch.</p>
<p>“Honestly, I don’t even know.” Patrick let out a little laugh. “Having a house full of people for seven days hasn’t given me much space to… feel? I guess.”</p>
<p>“I can go.”</p>
<p>Patrick put a hand on her arm. “Please don’t. I think you’re the only person I can stand right now.”</p>
<p>“Always the sweet talker.” They smiled.</p>
<p>After a lengthy silence, Patrick said, “No one else really gets it, you know? I mean, they all love him, obviously, they’re his family. Friends. But… it’s not the same.”</p>
<p>“I know,” Stevie said softly.</p>
<p>They fell quiet again, sipping their drinks and watching the candles in the fireplace flicker and melt.</p>
<p>“Please stay,” Patrick said. He looked at her with more tears than Stevie had seen all week. Patrick played more the host than the widower.</p>
<p>“Of course.” She wiped a tear from his cheek. “Let’s get you to bed, you must be exhausted.”</p>
<p>Stevie took the black cloth he wore around his arm untied it. Patrick watched her slide it away and fold it, placing it on the coffee table.</p>
<p>He took her hand and moved her toward him so he could take off hers and fold it just the same. He kept her hand in his.</p>
<p>“I’m so lonely,” he croaked. “I’m… fuck. I’m not here. I’m half gone.”</p>
<p>“I know,” Stevie said. “I know.”</p>
<p>He looked at  her with frantic eyes. “You really do, don’t you?”</p>
<p>Stevie nodded.</p>
<p>Patrick leaned forward. Stevie leaned forward. Their lips tentatively met. They pulled back and looked into the other’s eyes.</p>
<p>Patrick pushed Stevie on the couch, crawling over her, pressing against her. Their mouths were frantic, tasting each other's tongues, tasting each other’s tears.</p>
<p>Stevie wrapped her legs around Patrick and clawed at his sweater. He pulled it off and threw it over the couch. His skin was hot. It was soft.</p>
<p>Their movements were a dance of tearing clothes, scratching arms, and nipping teeth. They were quiet, even as they came with Patrick inside her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>2029</b>
</p>
<p>“I didn’t think your apartment had so much stuff in it,” Patrick laughed as they unloaded the truck.</p>
<p>“Me either. And this is after a <em> lot </em> of thrift store donations and trash runs,” Stevie said.</p>
<p>They unpacked in what once was the guestroom of Patrick and David’s house. It had a better mattress and better furniture than Stevie’s apartment, so her entire life was stacked only in cardboard. Over the next few days she decorated. Patrick incorporated her into the rest of the house. They cooked. Stevie did laundry. Patrick mowed the lawn. They adopted a stray cat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <b>2059</b>
</p>
<p>Patrick grasped her hand as a for sale sign was hammered into the yard. The house became too much for them to care for. They set sights on a much more manageable condo in Elmdale.</p>
<p>They knew the town never understood them, why they stayed together all these years. Neither had another romantic partner, not even each other. Stevie and Patrick participated in life together. They performed in community theater and took care of the store and the motel. They had friends and a poker night. But they were always on the outside, with people staring at them from the everyday life. But they never really cared. They had each other.</p>
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